Our love is ours to make
by letsallmakebelieve
Summary: He loves her, no epiphany needed. Finn and Rachel moments divided into twelve drabbles, AU.
1. Chapter 1

**November**

They've been hanging out for a few weeks. He met her at one of Mike's parties. Between drunk whispers, numbers were exchanged. Random texts morphed into coffee dates that soon turned into regular hookups.

It's been a while since he's been with someone. Quinn was his last girlfriend. He dated her for about a year until it all went to shit when she transferred to Yale in the fall. They tried to counter the distance with weekly calls and holiday visits. By the end of winter, their relationship became a burden neither was willing to bear. Since then, he had a few hookups in-between but nothing serious.

Rachel's different though. He's wide awake whenever she walks in a room; who needs a shot of expresso when he has her? It's like he can't be at ease until she's touching him, lulling him with her sweet voice.

Somehow, she gets him. Like the other day, when he had an okay grade but still felt down about it, she insisted on cancelling her dance rehearsal. They spent their night watching ''another mindless Miles Teller movie'', as she put it, their arms around each other, his bitterness long forgotten.

They didn't label whatever they are but for the first time in so long, he finds himself craving a routine; he wants steady _with her_.

So far, they've kept it a secret. He's fucking happy but feels selfish; he wants to explore her, to learn all her intricacies on his own, without anyone's input. Especially his brother's who's quick to judge. He tries hiding it from Kurt, even avoiding him, in fear of spilling his newfound bliss. It's proven impossible when two days later, his brother barges in his apartment, demanding that he spares an afternoon at this little café downtown. All seems good until she calls about their evening plans, leaving him grinning like a lovesick teenager. He's then forced to admit it all, facing his brother's never-ending questions.

As he makes his way home, he mourns the world he got to share with only her.

When he finally arrives, she's waiting for him, beside his door, dressed in white lace and holding a bottle of wine. His door unlocked, he grabs the bottle and puts it down eagerly, his hands begging for her skin. He holds her waist and leans down, kissing her slowly. She lets out a sigh and releases him from her grasp.

''Hello baby,'' he lets out, through hushed whispers against her neck.

''Hi,'' she concedes, in a soft hum.

He takes her hand and leads her towards his kitchen. ''How was your day?'' she asks, while he's looking for pans. It's their routine, cooking together. When she found out he ordered most meals, she made him buy a cookbook and promised to supervise. Since then, shared dinners became mandatory. They exchange daily anecdotes and eat before she wordlessly takes his hand and leads him down the hall, dishes forgotten in the sink.

Tonight's no different. After dinner, they make out for a while on the couch. As he bunches up her dress, she puts her hand over his. ''It's late, I should get back,'' she murmurs in the crook of his neck. He keeps kissing her pulse point, hoping she'll reconsider but she gently pushes his chest.

She never sleeps over. At first, he thought it was about her minding his roommate but Sam's always at his girlfriend's place and she knows it. He never asked her to stay but he thought his actions were obvious enough. ''Hey Rach?''

''Yeah?'' she absently replies while smoothing out her dress. ''Why do you never stay? My bed is big enough for the both of us. Haven't I proven enough that I love sharing it with you?'' She grins a little but shifts, unsure, her eyes fixated on her lap. ''I just thought you'd like your space is all.''

He stares at her, confused. She didn't tell him much about her romantic history but from her crippling insecurity, he's pretty convinced that Brody guy was the ultimate douchebag.

She's wrong though. These days, he finds himself reaching for her body in the dark. He wants to fill his mornings with her bright eyes, touching every inch of her until his mind goes hazy. Maybe that's cheesy but that's how he feels.

He sighs, then grabs her hand, forcing her to look up. ''Hey, I don't mind not having space.'' He hopes she can grasp the unspoken words but to make sure, he emphasizes ''I don't mind _you_.'' She sighs, then traces his chest, making him shiver. ''I want you in bed with me… like all the time. Not that we'd be doing stuff every night. We could though, but only if you-'' She giggles and grab his shoulders. ''I'm going to kiss you now.'' She does just that, his ramblings blurred by their lips.

He thinks she's ethereal in the morning light. He should get up but he can't help his musings as he watches her sleep soundly, face pressed against his pillow. His fingertips graze her cheek, causing her to frown and mumble about ''sleep'' and ''day _off_, baby''. She turns on her side, his hand left in the dust. She's crazy beautiful with her long dark hair, wide brown eyes and plump lips but that's just physically. Her personality is what attracts him the most. He's never seen a more passionate person; she always gives it her all whether it's with him or on stage. Whenever she kisses him, he swears he feels her pour her entire soul into it. He _loves_ her, no epiphany needed.

Ignoring her groans, he presses his lips against her neck, his palm covering her bare waist.

He usually _loves_ being lazy with her but today, his mind won't shut up. After an hour or so of staring at her, deigning her eyes to open, he gets up and takes a shower.

When she finally wakes up around nine, there's fresh coffee waiting for her on the counter. She attaches herself to his neck and whispers a quick ''honey'' before grabbing a cup.

He sits down and pats his lap. ''Good morning, baby.'' She grins and kisses his cheek.

Words are not his forte but for her, he's willing to try. ''I love you baby. These past few weeks have been amazing. I'm so glad I ditched studying for that party. Totally worth failing that exam.'' She hits him lightly, beaming. Sometimes, like right now, her usual eloquence is replaced by softened eyes. She pecks his lips two, three times. ''I love you too Hudson. You better stop with the praise or you'll find yourself stuck with me for months.'' This time, he's the one attacking her lips. ''Oh, I plan on it.''


	2. Chapter 2

**Just a reminder that English is not my first language and I had no one proofing this chapter so forgive any future mistake. Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer : Glee characters are not mine.**

* * *

**June**

Rachel adores date nights. She loves dressing up in her prettiest dress, putting on her highest heels and painting her lips cherry red, knowing it'll drive him wild. When she comes out of the bedroom, he never fails to compliments her, his gaze unwavering while she marvels over his broad shoulders, prominent in one of his crisp button downs.

When she has a shitty week, it's the one thing she looks forward to.

Sometimes, they'll go out for drinks with their friends but she prefers when it's just them, secluded in some restaurant's booth. For hours, they'll talk with wine-stained lips until she brushes his knee, anxious to get going. Their walk home is rushed, spent in a cab if they can't take the distance. When the bedroom door closes, they're breathless, eyes hazy with lust. Clothes are thrown in a heap while bodies collide in the sheets.

On the eve of their eight month anniversary, Finn decides to switch it up.

She comes off work, weary, her clothes drenched from the rain, dreaming of a hot bath with him. Silence meets her when she finally arrives at his apartment. She takes off her shoes, lining his as well on the carpet and makes her way towards his bedroom.

She finds him bustling around between his bedroom and the bathroom. An open luggage filled with haphazardly thrown clothes and toiletries lies on his bed. When he finally notices her, sitting on the edge of his bed, he puts his hands on her waist and kisses her hard.

''Hi baby! How was your day?'' he asks, beaming.

''Fine, thank you'' she replies, confused.

She doesn't remember him leaving anywhere. He visited Lima the other week…

As he tries to exit the room once more, she grips his hand, forcing him to stand still.

''Would you mind telling me _where you're going_?'' she adds, voice laced with annoyance.

He grins. ''Where _we're_ going baby.'' Her whine is cut off by his lips, cajoling her into momentary oblivion.

''What are you talking about?'' she murmurs against his lips.

''We've been together for eight months, we ought to celebrate it, don't you think?'' He pats her cheek before continuing to fill the luggage.

''But _Finn_, we can't travel, we barely have money as it is!''

He kisses her pout. ''I know. I wish I could bring you to Europe but with college loans and all, I figured booking a hotel room in the city for a night was the next best thing'' he adds, winking.

God, she loves him. She has every right to be moody; her director called her dance routine ''mediocre'' and forced her to go through it until her feet got sore. Yet, seeing him this excited, she can't bring herself to frown. He's the sweetest man she's ever met really. Maybe she's biased but when he looks at her with that smile, she swears he is.

''Come here.'' She pushes the luggage off the bed, letting it thump. Before he protests, she grabs his shoulders and makes him lie down beside her.

She traces the moles on his cheek before kissing them.

''You're the sweetest, did you know that?'' she whispers, in-between kisses.

''I did, yeah. Feel free to show me just how much though.'' She smiles against his lips.

His lips are incessant against hers but she pushes him slightly. ''Later. We have a room to get to!,'' she counters with sudden excitement.

''I'm glad you're seeing it my way.'' He stands up, offering her a hand. ''Now come on baby, pack your bags so I can get to your gratitude.''

She smacks his chest, ''Finn!''

Smirking, ''Oh come on. Don't pretend like I'm the only one thinking about it!''

He squeezes her hips before reaching for his drawers.

''But I don't have any clothes to pack!''

''S'not true. I saw some of your stuff in my bottom drawer.''

She goes around him and opens it, coming across a large t-shirt of his she sometimes sleeps in, a pair of fuzzy socks and a bikini she left behind that one time they went in a hot tub with Puck and his conquest of the night. ''Do you really expect me to wear only this for the night we'll be staying there?'' she scoffs, throwing him her socks.

He opens his top drawer and hands her a pair of giant sweatpants. ''Fine, here.'' She holds it in front of her waist.

''Finn, I can't wear that to bed, I'll look ridiculous! I'm pretty sure you won't be able to tell if I'm hidden somewhere in there!''

He laughs and hugs her, pants crumpling between them. She tries to resist but reciprocates after a while.

''Don't be so dramatic! I'm not that big!''

She distances herself from him enough to send him a glare. He kisses her forehead and picks up his pants.

''I'll put those back, I get it. You could always wear that bikini though or you know… nothing at all, I wouldn't mind,'' he adds cheekily. Such a boy.

''Is that why you let me store that little of clothes here?''

He has the audacity to wink at that. She stares him down until he sighs.

''Fine. I may have done laundry before you arrived. I washed some of your clothes from the other night.''

She stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek, squealing. She comes back in his room, arms full of leftover clothes she squeezes in the luggage.

''Our check-in is at 7, we should go.''

He zips the luggage and takes her hand, grinning. Before they cross the threshold, she stops him. ''Is everything-'' Her lips interrupt him. ''Thank you, Finn. For tonight. It's sweet and _so romantic_. I can't believe it's been eight months already!''

Now he's the one pecking her lips. ''I _know_.'' He glances at his watch. ''We have to go though if we want to get settled. We're not in the 'speeches about undying love'' part yet. It comes later.''

She grins. ''Oh, does it?''

''Yep, right after our scheduled bath.''

She kisses his cheek. ''Finn, I _really_ love you.''

* * *

As she removes her clothes, she looks over her shoulder, tempting him. When her panties hit the floor, he clears his throat, making her smile. He sits up in the tub, his hand reaching out for hers. She grabs it and crouches down until she's firmly pressed against his chest.

It's quiet for a while until he starts humming.

Finn rarely sings. When he does, it's in this soft hum, barely above a whisper. She asked him about it once. He only shrugged and replied that she was the talented one in the relationship. He's insecure but she doesn't understand why, his voice is lovely. Drums is another talent of his. He's so good at it, picking up the rhythm in every song while all she hears is melody.

Her eyes close partially, mesmerized by the sound of his voice. She's woken up by his wet lips against her neck. ''Rach, baby. Wake up. We're getting crinkly.'' She whines but turns in his arms, hands on his shoulders.

They kiss lazily, his hands caressing her lower back. The now lukewarm water makes her shiver.

''Babe, not in here. Let's go lay down on the bed.''

He squeezes her waist before releasing her. Once out of the tub, she reaches for her panties, forgoing the rest.

Eager, he follows her, clad only in his boxers.

He rummages through their luggage, grabbing the cheap bottle of wine they bought on the way. She hands him two plastic cups that he fills.

As she sips her drink, she watches him. Bursting with anticipation, she reaches out for him, cup left on the nearest surface. She kisses him slowly, fingers pulling.

''Thank you baby. I needed _this_.''

His lips stretch wide against hers.

''I did too.'' She's trying to pull him down on the bed but he distances himself. ''I want to, baby, I really do but I've got a gift to give you.'' She pecks him a few more times, hoping he'll opt for later but he stands up, leaving her lips dry.

She straightens up, inadvertently pushing her naked torso forward.

''Could you please put on something? I want to give you your gift and it's impossible to concentrate when you've got so little on.''

She pouts. Leaving 'so little on' was a conscious decision. Still, she obliges, grabbing one of the two robes hanging against the bathroom door. She ties it slowly, barely hiding her breasts, making him grunt.

She sits on the edge of the bed as he rustles through their bag once again.

Finally, he stands in front of her, hands behind his back. He leans down and kisses her quickly.

She almost wishes there wasn't a gift so they could get back to being distracted. _Almost._

''Rachel, I love you so much. Puck could go on and on about the benefits of being single but I couldn't care less since I met you. I love coming home to you dancing in my kitchen or hearing you doing your scales in the shower. I find myself watching Barbra specials on VH1 just so I can talk to you about it when you come over. Your cooking is so amazing I don't notice the vegan of it all anymore.''

She laughs at that. Her not eating meat had been somewhat of a tragedy for Finn who always craved burgers. ''You love me for my astounding personality then?''

His cheeks crease into waves of dimples. ''Your crazy hot looks are just icing on the cake, babe.''

Her sweet goofy man. In times of anger, she tries to ignore him but it's proven impossible with that smile.

She grabs his shoulder to press her lips against his.

''How's that for a speech?''

''Pretty smooth Hudson, I have to admit. Now, where's my gift? My materialistic tendencies need to be met.''

He goes around her, knees on the bed. His fingertips brush her collarbone and reveal a tiny silver chain. It holds a plaque with the words ''He loves you so'' written on it.

She holds it between her fingers, tracing its delicate details. He sits beside her, eyes lingering.

''The first month we were together, you kept on singing love songs. You wouldn't say you loved me first so instead you kept humming those songs in the shower, thinking you were being unheard but babe, let's be honest here, it woke me up each time.''

She blushes. So much for subtlety.

''Sometimes, I'd enter a room quietly, trying to catch a glimpse until you'd see me and you'd turn silent, blushing furiously like you are right now.''

Can cheeks burst into flames? She thinks hers could.

''Anyway, the one you would sing most was from that Barbra movie about the young struggling actress. Now I'm not the greatest at remembering titles…''

''My man from Funny Girl,'' she interrupts, coyly.

He gives her a stern look, begging her silently to let him finish. She bites her lip, tears already prickling her eyes.

''As you know, there's a part where it says, and I looked it up online to make sure, 'Oh my man I love him so, he'll never know'. Well, that's the thing Rachel. I do know and I love you too. So much. Even during that small period you weren't sure I did. I fell for you a long time ago, at that stupid party, when you were convinced you'd be sick from drinking two beers.''

Of course, she's crying. Profusely. She always finds it astounding how Finn thinks he's the worst at speeches when he can make her feel that way, like she's the only one walking on this earth. On his earth, at least. As much as he wants to deny it, he's the romantic one in the relationship.

After a few hiccups, full of tears, she hugs him and assures him she feels the same. She removes her robe and they lie down, under the covers.

''I don't have anything for you,'' she admits, playing with her necklace.

''Babe, that's what the necklace's about. As cheesy as it sounds, I have all I want right here.''

She puts a hand on his hip, pushing his boxers down, lips frugal against his.

Date nights will surely be ruined after this one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hope you enjoy this next installment, I sure had a blast writing it. Reviews are a delight, so please send some my way! Thank you to my few fans, you keep me going!**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Glee characters, obviously.**

* * *

**March**

He can't sleep. It's been hours and his mind won't stop buzzing. He tries watching late night comics, even reading his textbook to lull himself to sleep but it won't work. Their fight is all he thinks about.

He had been waiting for hours at her place, already on edge about his upcoming exams. Two hours later, when she managed to show up, she was in a sour mood, voice hoarse from sickness and singing. Their greetings had been polite, if not crisp. Playful retorts morphed into biting arguments none of them seemed patient enough to have which led to her storming out and him drinking away his resentment at his apartment.

He grabs his cellphone in the dark. No new texts.

It's not like they never fought before. They did. A lot. It's just that he's not used to it lasting that long. One of them usually comes around a few minutes later, apologies murmured between kisses.

He hates it. He wants to despise her, to curse her but all he feels is guilt. Gut-wrenching guilt.

His phone in hand, he begins to type a draft of an apology.

**Hey Rach. About today…**

What is he supposed to say? ''Hey Rach, really loved having a door slammed to my face. It was awesome.''

He shuts his phone off and throws it on his bed.

Their last conversation keeps replaying in his head, each version more distorted than the last. Okay, maybe he didn't need to call her ''a sadistic control freak'', her ex used to call her out on her controlling tendencies and it bothered her but that's the thing about loving someone, you know exactly how to hurt them.

His phone vibrates. It's her.

_You forgot your hoodie at my place…_

Oh, so that's how she wants to play it. He should've known, given how proud she is.

As he types, his anger resurfaces.

**I've got a ton more, no need to worry about me. You can go back to sleep now, I'll pick it up later. **

He knows he's not the only one losing sleep over their argument but he wants her to admit it. The talking bubble pops up and disappears a few times. His eyelids begin to droop when his screen flashes.

**Fine. I can't sleep… **

Using an ellipsis,_ god_ even in text, she sounds dramatic. Cockiness is tempting but he restrains himself. He's wondering what to type next when his phone rings. He quickly accepts the call, hoping Sam didn't hear it.

He's greeted with her scratchy voice. _Crap_, she's been crying.

''Finn…''

''Yeah?''

''I can't sleep. I'm too cold.''

She's saying she misses him but he won't let her win that easily.

''Turn the heater on or you know, put on a fuzzy sweater or something.''

''_Finn_,'' she whines.

Her lingering irritates him.

''What do you want me to say Rach?,'' he says, voice dripping with resentment. ''Apparently, I'm not smart enough to think by myself!''

She lets out a loud gasp.

''Finn Hudson, that is not what I said! I merely suggested that without my so called controlling tendencies, you'd be helpless!''

''Geez, thanks Rach, it's so much better!''

A messy-haired Sam opens his door.

''Dude, shut up! Trying to sleep here!''

He ignores Rachel's ranting and mutters a quick apology.

''Oh… well I am too.''

Huh? _Fuck_, of course she'd think he was apologizing to her.

''I didn't mean… I was talking to Sam.''

Her silence confirms his mistake.

''Oh, so you're not sorry about today?''

''Well, it's just…''

''No need to apologize Finn. It's perfectly fine. Obviously, I'm the only one being upset over this. Don't worry, I'll hang up and let you sleep…''

''Rachel, _Jesus_! Can you let me talk?''

She responds with an exaggerated sigh.

''Of course I'm sorry, baby. I can't sleep either. I shouldn't've said those things… I didn't mean it. I was stressed out. I know it's not a reason but it's been an off day. I got crappy grades and my teacher has been all over my ass about it… ''

''I know, I get it. I'm sorry too. My sore throat is not your fault either. I love you. You know how I get when I have a cold.''

He chuckles. Yes, he _knows_. The last time it happened, she lost her voice trying to prove she could still sing karaoke.

''It's not funny! I won't be able to sing for at least a week!''

He laughs even harder, forcing himself to stop when he hears stomping outside his door.

''Babe, I have to hang up. Sam's trying to sleep.''

As his bitterness fades, he feels drowsy.

''I should too. It's late.''

He yawns loudly.

''Oh…''

''I'll call you tomorrow. Good night, babe.''

''It's just…''

''_Dude_, still not sleeping over here! Hang up already!,'' Sam shouts on the other side of his door.

''Look Rach, I really gotta go.''

''Could you come over?''

He looks at his cellphone, 3 AM blaring.

''Now? It's 3 AM babe. Can't it wait? I'll see you first thing tomorrow, I promise.''

''I miss you. I know I'll sleep better if you're here… _Please_, Finn. For me,'' she replies in her softest voice, knowing he won't be able to resist.

Sam bangs on his door.

''_Dude_, _shut the fuck up_!''

Sam is usually so chill. What a _fucking princess_. He makes a mental note not to disturb his sleep ever again.

Before he knows it, he's pulling his sweatshirt over his head with one hand, phone stuck between his ear and shoulder.

''I'll be there in 10, baby. Warm up the bed for me. I'll be the giant Popsicle.''

She giggles, making her cough.

''I'll make sure to give you heat,'' she adds in a sultry voice. ''Love you.''

Damn. There's no way he's falling asleep now.

He knows she just played him but as he gets in a cab, he knows braving the freezing cold is worth it if he can be in bed, besides her warm body in a few minutes.

* * *

She greets him, clad in a polar bear onesie. He pulls her into his arms and ducks his head to meet her lips.

''Finn, wait… I have a cold.''

He shrugs. ''Honestly babe, it's fine. I'm pretty sure I already got frost bite anyway.''

She pushes at his chest, still not convinced.

He takes both of her hands, pushing them away. ''I missed you all day. I'll take my chances.''

They kiss sweetly, her hands roaming under his coat.

''Let me take this off real quick.''

He rids himself from his coat, quickly hangs it in a closet – he knows his girl, she likes her apartment neat.

She throws him a look over her shoulder, strutting her way to her bedroom.

_Fuck_, she manages to make a kid's onesie sexy.

He finds her sitting under the covers. As she shifts towards him, a breast pops out from her unzipped top, making him groan. He shucks his pants and shirt and joins her, lips and hands reaching every inch of her exposed skin.

''I love you so much,'' he expresses, between open-mouthed kisses.

She only sighs his name in response, her fingers gripping the hair at the base of his neck.

''_God_, you're driving me crazy with that pajama.''

''I _know_. I remember Christmas morning on skype,'' she tells him, smirking.

''Yeah, that was a good morning.'' He smiles, his lips against her collarbone.

She grabs him through his boxers, eliciting a gasp.

He catches her hand, his eyes boring into hers.

''I really am sorry, y'know. I hate when we fight. Especially when it's for stupid shit.''

She traces his shoulders.

''I agree, language aside. Right now though, I think we should warm you up. You seem very cold.''

She takes his hand and places it on her exposed breast.

''What do you say?''

He pounces on her, grinning.

* * *

They end up making love a few times until they fall asleep, arms around each other.

He wakes up to her soft eyes and puckered mouth. A few kisses quickly turn into a frenzied make out session.

In the late afternoon, they migrate to the couch, a lifetime movie playing in the background. He tells her mornings with her are his favourite, earning a few heated kisses.

He pulls out, his body wracked with cough.

''Poor baby. I told you, you'd be sick,'' she tells him, his head held against her chest.

''You know I'd do anything for you to borrow Santana's nurse costume again,'' he replies in a scratchy voice. ''You looked super hot in that white apron, babe.''

''Didn't we agree I looked better with just the apron on though?''

He lifts his head, eyes darkening.

''Please, remind me.''

''Finn, we _just_ made love. Can't you stay put a little while longer?,'' she asks cheekily while pointing to his crotch.

''Hey, don't blame the little guy. He wants you as much as I do, which is pretty much anytime, anywhere.''

He shifts towards the back of the couch and holds her against him, head resting in the crook of her shoulder

''But really though. It sucks about your voice. Mine's not that valuable to me but I know how _you_ get when you can't sing.''

''My director barely tolerates me as it is. I've worked so hard on that production. I don't want my stand in to become the new Maria. If that little wench thinks she can replace me that easily…''

''Whoa, Rach, calm down,'' he says, kissing her shoulder. ''Nobody said anything about replacing you. It's a cold, it'll be over in a week. Besides, if that director even thinks of going in another direction, he's an idiot. You're the most talented singer at NYADA. Everyone knows it. Even Kurt says so, with a few wine glasses in him.''

Hearing that last fact, she can't help but giggle. Kurt has always been her fiercest competitor at NYADA, always trying to upstage her elaborate auditions with Broadway songs even more daring than hers. When she learned that he was Finn's stepbrother, their rivalry morphed into a close bond. From then on, they prepared for their upcoming auditions together, sometimes at the expense of Finn, who ended up ditched on the couch, in front of a Schwarzenegger movie. While she did not always agree with his strong opinions on ''proper clothing attire'', she shared his dreams and passions.

''Thank you, baby. You give the best pep talks. Hopefully, with honey and tea, my voice will be alright in no time.''

She turns in his arms and stares at him, eyes as big as she can muster. With a long sigh, he gets off the couch.

''Honey. Tea. Got it.''

What others call controlling, he calls loving and passionate. He's whipped. So what?

He's willing to go through more shitty days if she's there, waiting for him, at the end of those.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, thank you so much for the positive feedback! Here's one of my favourite chapters so far! You'll spot an hommage to my native language! Once again, reviews keep me going.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee characters.**

* * *

**September**

Tina has been seeing Mike for a few weeks when she tells Rachel about it. They met at one of Finn's barbecues over the summer. When her friend asks her about a double date, she's quick to say yes. It warms her heart thinking that Finn's friend is dating Tina. She's bummed she wasn't behind it herself. They're perfect for each other, really. They both share a passion for the arts, him majoring in dance, her in theatre.

Of course when she agrees, she fails to tell Finn about it, forgetting it until Tina brings it up a few weeks before.

She knows he won't be on board, with his tendency to avoid getting involved. She figures that telling him while he's watching ESPN classics will make him agree to it. As expected, he gives her a quick nod, in-between commentaries.

In the late afternoon, a few hours ahead of their date, Tina calls, informing her that their casual double date is now a dressed up affair at a French restaurant. She's been wanting to go to _Le Rafiot_ herself ever since it opened.

Convincing Finn to dress up on a Friday night, after his day-long shift at the garage is already a feat but making him go eat French food is another. Food is somewhat of a grey area for them. While she enjoys gourmet vegan food, he's more of a hamburger and fries kind of guy. Ordering in often turned out to be tricky.

As soon as she hangs up, she looks for him.

''Babe, where are you?''

As she makes her way down the hall, she hears water running. She finds him as he's getting out the shower. Sighing, she picks up his oil-stained overall and puts it in the hamper. When she turns around, he's drying off with a towel, making her stare.

It's been almost a year and _still_, she's as attracted to his 6'3 stature and broad shoulders as she was at their first meeting.

''Did you call me? I thought I heard you.''

Gaze traveling dangerously low, she tears her eyes away.

''Yeah, I did. Tina just called… about our date,'' she adds, muttering while refolding clean towels.

''What date?,'' he replies, oblivious.

''You know… the double date I told you about last month… with Mike and Tina.''

''Whoa, hold up. You never mentioned this!''

Her hands come around his waist, ''Yes, I did. When you were watching that game…''

''_Rach_,'' he begins, whining. ''You know you can't tell me things when I'm watching ESPN. Unless… you did it on purpose, didn't you?'' He looks at her pointedly before swatting her hands away, twisting the towel against his waist.

She shrugs.

''_Fine_. I knew you wouldn't come so I may have tricked you into it…''

''You're right,'' he says, squeezing her butt in passing. ''I don't want to go.''

She follows him to the bedroom, stomping. ''Finn, we have to! They're our friends and they need our support!''

''Babe, they're consenting adults,'' he replies, voice laced with sarcasm while he trades his towel for a pair of boxers. ''I don't think they need our permission to date.''

''It's the principle of the thing. It's getting serious and Tina wants to share her new relationship with trusted friends, such as you and I.''

He turns around, looking her down, his hand on her shoulder. ''I get it but I also want to spend the night with you, eating our weight in pasta and passing out in front of Netflix.''

She grabs his neck and pecks his cheek. ''It does sound tempting,'' she begins, lip between her teeth. ''Tell you what, we go for three hours and I'll _suddenly_ get tired.''

Grabbing her waist, he leans down, lips centimetres away from hers. ''One hour and a half and you've got a deal,'' he mutters, breath fanning over her.

Her tongue traces his lips gently. ''Two hours and I'll pay for your meal.''

Groaning, he kisses her one, two times. ''Fine, I'll go but I'll be the one settling the check. I don't want to be the cheap boyfriend. Besides, you can reward me in other ways when we come back,'' he replies, mouth on hers again.

That, she'll have to do, knowing two French meals will surely cover half of his paycheck, if not more.

She pulls out of the kiss and traces his chest, fingers skimming from stomach to shoulders.

''Good, I'll let you get dressed then. We both know what happens when I stay in here,'' she adds, pecking his lips one last time.

She's halfway down the hall when she lets out, ''Oh and Finn, we're going to that French restaurant so you have to be dressed up.''

She hears him groan from the bedroom.

* * *

When 7 PM arrives, Finn is wearing his only suit while she's in a red wrap-up dress, standing in four inch heels.

She's applying lipstick in the bathroom when his arms come around her waist.

''You look stunning, babe,'' he tells her before kissing her cheek sweetly.

Her hands hold his arms, marveling over their reflection. ''You're quite handsome yourself. Now, I'm the one that doesn't want to go,'' she sighs. ''I'd much prefer staying at home with you, taking that tie off,'' she adds, playfully.

''Baby, don't say things like that or I'll lock us both in the bedroom.''

She takes his hands off her, grabbing his arm instead. ''Come on. The sooner we go, the sooner it'll be over.''

He follows her lead, reluctantly.

* * *

Their order is taking _forever_. Finn and Mike already ate all the bread in their basket. They were supposed to dash one hour ago and be clad in pajamas by now. Instead, she's stuck in painful shoes and a dress that keeps showing Mike her red lace bra.

Tina forgot to place a reservation, at a _new_ restaurant, on a _Friday night_, so forty-five minutes at the bar leads to another half-hour at the table, looking over menus, with Finn asking her to translate every word.

''_Poisson_ means Fish, Finn. Why would they serve us meals with _poison _in it?''

_Finally_, the waiter showed up and wrote down their orders. Still, an hour later, they're left with only wine which is running low. She feels like her stomach is caving on itself.

Finn is rubbing her thigh under the table, trying to calm her down.

''Babe, stop moving your leg so much,'' he whispers, lips against her ear. ''I'm sure our food's almost ready. Do you want more wine?''

Wordlessly, she gives him her glass, hoping it will numb her growing hunger.

''So, Mike has been telling me this story, it's hilarious, you have to hear it…''

Ah, yes. Tina's with Mike. She's in a relationship with Mike. She loves Mike. Very, very much. She would find it cute if her friend could stop gushing about him for two seconds!

Surely reading her mind, Finn jumps in before she retorts with sarcasm.

''What's it about?''

Her palm squeezes his, thankful for his tact that she seems to lack at the moment.

Ten minutes later as she's about to grab a waiter by the collar, _demanding_ any food available, they finally get served.

Her _ratatouille aux pois chiches _isn't as savory as she'd hoped but she's too hungry to care. Besides her, Finn polishes off his _rôti de veau à l'érable_ and gulps down the rest of the wine.

While the guys are debating about some basketball player's defense - whatever that means - she compliments Tina about her date, trying to make up for her previous moodiness.

When Tina suggests dessert, Finn is quick to reply, pretexting an early-morning shift when they both know he's not working this weekend.

Moments like these remind her how much she loves him. He's clearly enjoying himself with Mike but instead of staying up, he's going home with her, fully aware she's tired and wants him with her, without her needing to say so.

''Grab our coats while I go settle the check. I expect a cab, waiting for us outside when I come back… I can't wait to get you home Ms. Berry,'' he whispers seductively, lips grazing her cheek.

* * *

Later, when her heels and dress are off, she changes into a tank top and sleep shorts. He beats her to the couch, swallowing himself under a blanket. She settles against his chest, one of his arms resting on her waist.

''I'm glad we're finally home. I love Tina but enough about complimenting Mike already! Urging him to show his abs at the table felt quite uncomfortable, even with his well-defined body!''

She feels him shift behind her, a clear sign of unspoken insecurity. ''I much prefer yours though. Besides, 5'11 is not cutting it. I like my men way taller,'' she mumbles, turning in his arm, lips brushing his.

His hand slips under her tank while her tongue explores his mouth.

A few sighs later, she pulls out of the kiss, soft smile hanging off her lips. ''Thanks again for coming along, baby. Tina kept thanking me while I was gathering our coats… It's weird to think we're the old couple now…''

Smirking, he brings her closer to him. ''Maybe so but we're sure not as boring as those two!''

''Says the guy who couldn't wait to get to his couch, '' she acknowledges, giggling.

''Hey, pretending to watch a movie while I feel up my girl is not boring! We're not the ones playing board games with our parents on a Friday night…,'' he adds, voice lowering by the end of the sentence.

''Mike didn't say…''

He only nods. ''Shit. Don't repeat that… Mike told me in confidence. Tina is big on the parent's thing apparently…''

She laughs harder.

''Okay, so maybe we're not that bad... Still, going out to a fancy restaurant once in a while would be nice. I miss our early dates… We used to spend hours in some hole-in-the-wall place, just sipping wine and talking…'' she mutters, face against his chest.

''Yeah, I remember those. They were nice. You would give me endless lists of Broadway movies I'd have to watch if I wanted to see you again…''

''And yet Santana claimed I had no skills to attract men… it worked on you though, didn't it?,'' she smirks.

''Babe, I was so hooked I would've been a chorus guy for some dark off-off Broadway production if it meant hanging out with you again!''

She nibbles on his lower lip, before kissing it softly.

''How about this? We eat out at least once a month and I promise to put on that itchy tie you like…''

''The charcoal one I got you for your last birthday?''

''If you mean the grey striped one, then yeah.''

Her mouth glides against his neck in a silent thank you.

''Now, let's watch a movie so I can kiss _your_ neck.''

Giggling, she quickly turns around, settling further against him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks to my few readers, I'm glad some of you are interested in this story! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. **

* * *

**January**

Christmas is his favourite time of the year. He loves being back in Ohio, catching up on ESPN with Burt while his mom supplies them with pastries. God, how he misses his mom's cooking! It's nice to eat something other than hot pockets for once. He even hangs out with Kurt, in front of TV specials. Christmas is the best.

This year though, it's different. He misses her. Like a lot. It's been two weeks since they last saw each other. They've been texting back and forth, even talking on the phone a few nights but it's just not the same as actually seeing her, touching her… They're at the beginning of their relationship so it's been hard. He misses sex and from the pictures that she sends him, smiling coyly in her underwear, the feeling's mutual. He swears only Rachel can make panties dotted with hearts look sexy.

Rachel's amazing in bed. Yeah, okay, he's biased, being in love with her and all but it's true. She's the hottest thing he's ever seen. She's got this tight little body with killer legs. Like _God_. And her mouth is just… He loves her mouth. So much. Puck keeps asking him about details, assuming all her intensity must pay off. He's right… not that he'd ever tell him though. It's between him and her.

Only problem is that they don't get to do it as often as they'd like. They both have nosy roommates, hers barging in her room at any given moment while Sam hollers at them if he hears the slightest squeak. He's not complaining, making out is hot too. It's just the ''being painfully hard'' part that's not helping his patience. They met in the end of October so they only had one entire month together before the break.

So yeah. They're both pretty anxious to see each other. He's coming back in two days and he already promised her she would be his first stop, not that he planned on dropping by his place, anyway.

* * *

She calls him on the eve of his return trip, voice ecstatic.

''Baby, I miss you so much!,'' she whines. ''I can't wait to see you tomorrow! I even baked my famous sugar cookies for the occasion!''

''God, babe, you're the best. I fucking miss you…''

''_Finn_!''

He finds it funny that she pretends she doesn't like swearing; they both know she curses like a sailor in bed. He doesn't want to shoot himself in the foot though so he apologizes.

''Are we eating dinner together?''

''Yes, I should be at your place by that time.''

''Good, I'll make my cumin green chili mac n' cheese recipe, I remember how much you loved it,'' she says breezily.

So… he didn't like that recipe at all. That yellow mixture looked disgusting to be honest but she sounds so pleased with herself that he doesn't correct her. Besides, he's pretty sure he'd eat garbage if it would make her day.

Kurt bangs up on his door, calling him up.

''Sounds great babe. I have to go, Kurt's been bugging me to watch The King and I with him, _again_… but I'll see you tomorrow, can't wait!''

He hears rustling on the other end. He glances at his phone. 10 PM. She's probably snuggled under her covers, on the verge of falling asleep. She does that sometimes. He'll be telling her random anecdotes from his day while her voice gradually fades out. The rare times he coerces her into staying up, she'll usually be out, lids sealed shut, by 12. The first time they had a sleepover, they had to adjust to each other's routine, while Rachel is up with the sun, he's more of a night owl. They had to compromise, she would agree to stay up until 11 if he would be okay with waking up at 9 with her.

''Okay, tell Kurt I say hi. Love you,'' she trails off, yawning.

''I will. Love you too.''

She wishes him a good night one last time and hangs up.

As he's settling into bed, hours later, he grabs his phone and scrolls through his notifications. A new picture is sitting in his inbox.

Her comforter, held tight against her body, reveal bare shoulders and a bit of cleavage. With it, a caption that reads ''Thinking of you and tomorrow night…''

That night, after a much-needed last minute shower, he dreams of olive skin and curtains of dark hair.

* * *

As soon as they're in the city, he's itching to get to her, almost urging the cab driver to forgo speed limits. He barely says goodbye to Kurt before he's marching up her stairs, bag loosely hanging off his shoulder.

His greetings on the intercom are cut short as she buzzes him up, apparently as restless as he is.

She's standing in her doorframe, in a little blue sundress, beaming. He drops his bag on the ground, grabs her waist and meets her lips.

''Hi, baby,'' he says, words muffled by her insistent lips.

''Fuck, I missed you so much,'' she murmurs, warm mouth over his. ''Rachel Berry, did I hear you swear?,'' he chuckles. She only presses her mouth firmly against his, one hand squeezing him down _there_.

If she keeps doing that, he'll blow his load right there. With her, he's a teenager again, hormones held together by an unraveling string.

''Babe, we should um…,'' he points towards the living room, not wanting to give a show to her neighbors' prying eyes. She brushes her lips against his one last time, arms wound tight against his neck before she leads him inside.

She tries to lift his bag before she settles on dragging it to her bedroom with unwavering obstinacy.

She's so damn cute.

* * *

Turns out her meal tastes okay if you're hungry as fuck and gulp down wine at the same time. He polishes off two full plates in a few minutes. She chastises his eating habits but still pecks his lips when she clears his plate.

They catch up over dessert, her telling him about Hanukkah with her dads while he tells her about the many musicals he now has seen, thanks to Kurt. She tries quizzing him on a few but his crap memory won't collaborate… and his eyes may dart occasionally towards the view her plunging dress offers. She catches his stare and smiles coyly, leaning more on the table.

As soon as he's done with dessert, she leads him to the bedroom, barely letting him sit on the bed before she straddles him, mouth attached to his in a deep kiss. Usually, it's manners first with Rachel, insisting on clearing the dishes before they do anything else. Her forgoing all that because she needs him this much is such a turn on.

''Fuck, you look so hot. I've been wanting to get that dress off you all night,'' he whispers while she rids him of his belt.

He flips them over and slides his lips against her neck, fingers fumbling with her dress' zipper. She sighs, pushing him away. She turns around, guiding his fingers to her dress. Her arms rise as he bunches it up in his hand and takes it off, revealing her smooth back. _Fuck_, she's not wearing a bra.

He tosses her hair away, kissing her spine, hands rubbing her breasts as hers grips the back of his neck. His fingers ghost over her, slipping in her panties. Between breathy complaints, she grabs his wrist and removes it, turning in his arms instead.

''We'll have time for that later. Right now, I want you inside me,'' she states boldly, grabbing the sides of his shirt, his jeans following suit not long after. He hovers over her, hands skimming along her smooth curves.

The sight of her astounds him every time. He's been with other girls but he's never been that attracted. When they have sex, it's like his entire soul is being poured into it. He used to go for taller girls, too. Now, he can't even remember how it felt not leaning down to kiss. He has total tunnel vision.

When he kisses the little mole resting under her right breast, she lets out this tiny noise that drives him crazy. His palm lays flat against her stomach, keeping her frenzied body down. She palms him again before pushing his boxers down, he does the same with her panties.

He groans against her open mouth when he enters her, her walls slick with lust.

''_Fuck_, babe. You feel amazing.''

She only responds in heavy sighs, nails skimming against his back.

From there, it's fast. It takes him only a few thrusts. When he's on the verge of coming, he swipes his thumb on her, eliciting this little noise, between a moan and a gasp, that never fails to gets him off.

He rolls off of her, too _hot_ to touch her right away. She puts a hand on his chest, hovering over him with a cute little smile hanging off her lips.

''I'm really glad you're back,'' she begins, lips brushing his lazily.

''Me too,'' he repeats, completely ragged. ''Getting off alone is just not as fun.''

She kisses his chest, ''I know.''

Okay so she can't expect him to lay there when she says stuff like this, _seriously_.

Her hand's trailing down his pelvis and… Yeah, he won't let her sleep tonight…


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to everyone reading, favoriting, following, reviewing this story, it drives me to write!**

**Disclaimer : Glee characters are not mine.**

* * *

**April**

She loves spending time with Kurt. It usually happens when Blaine and Finn get tickets to whatever sport event. They'll end up on her couch and watch ridiculous lifetime movies or they'll catch up over coffee.

Today, it's this nice weather, warm enough to wear only a layer under her coat but still a bit windy. She drags Kurt to this vegan café she's been dying to try. They're discussing their respective relationships when Kurt boldly states that Blaine isn't his best friend, only Mercedes is. Shocked, she probes him about it, not believing that their close bond is just romantic.

''Surely, Finn isn't yours?'' Kurt replies, dubious.

As she thinks about it, she realizes that yes, he is.

While Finn flirted with her from the beginning, they kept it platonic for a few weeks, only texting and calling each other. He would listen as she told him about her classes and ask her questions about her day. She thought he was cute but it's his kindness that really sparked her interest.

Now, they're even closer. She'll crave a specific snack and he'll go get it, surprising her with it when she comes home, not even knowing she wanted it in the first place. Santana likes to brag about how she's so in sync with Brittany but she has no doubt Finn and her are worthy competitors.

It surprises her that Kurt, who's been with Blaine for four years, doesn't share that bond as well.

''Yes, _actually_. Finn knows me as well as Santana. I'm sad to hear you don't share the same thing with Blaine.''

''He's my friend. We're just not as close as I am with Mercedes or as he is with Sam. It's not the same thing…''

''But it could be'', she argues, softly. ''Trust me, it's a wonderful thing to have your boyfriend be your best friend. When I'm in a crappy mood, I don't have to hold back with your brother, I can tell him anything. He listens and gives me great advice.''

''I wouldn't have pegged Finn as a great advice giver…''

''Well, you'd be surprised. He's the one helping me to reconcile with you most of the times…''

Kurt shrugs, eyes on his untouched latte, ''Blaine and I, we're just so different…''

''So are me and Finn but we make it work. Just promise me you'll give it a shot, okay? I used to have trust issues too and now I can't go a day without talking to him about every little thing that occurs. We have a no secret policy…,'' she trails off, cellphone ringing.

It's him. She takes the call, beaming, ''Hey, baby. I was just talking about you to your brother… _Finn, no_, certainly not about _that_!''

Kurt scrunches his nose over his drink. ''I wish I didn't but I've already heard _that_, anyway! You guys are disgusting!''

She throws her napkin at him, ''Yes, I'll be on my way in a few. Love you.''

* * *

Kurt's confession is still on her mind when Finn greets her. She brushes her lips against his as he takes her handback and hangs it up by his doorway.

He sits on a counter stool and she follows suit. ''Hey babe, is everything alright? You seem preoccupied,'' he asks, hand splaying on her back.

''Your brother doesn't consider Blaine as one his best friends. They've been together for four years, Finn! How can you have a lasting relationship if you're not close with your boyfriend?''

''Well, he didn't say they weren't friends…,'' he offers.

''Yeah but don't you think it's a little weird? I tell you everything. If something happens to me, you're the first one I want to confide in and we've only been together for five months!''

''Babe, you're overreacting…,'' he starts, tone careful.

''Finn Hudson, is this your way of saying I'm not _your_ best friend?,'' she counters.

Maybe she should be concerned about her own relationship…

''Hey, whoa, I never said that! Of course you are. We both know I've shared with you my darkest secrets, including that time I ripped my pants in the crotch by jumping on a trampoline when I was eleven!''

Despite herself, she giggles, remembering how his face was painted scarlet when he told her that particular anecdote.

''I'm sorry… It's just… I wish they could be as close as us, you know…''

He kisses the apple of cheek. ''I know and it's sweet of you but you can't do anything about it, Rach. It's their relationship, not yours.''

She grabs his face and traces the little moles splayed around his jaw, ''You're the wisest, Hudson. I'm glad you're my best friend,'' she trails off, lips intent on his jaw.

''With benefits though. As much as I love being your friend, I'm not willing to let those go,'' he adds, hand sliding down her back and squeezing her butt.

''Mmm, I think that can be arranged,'' she purrs in his ear.

They make out for a little while until Finn's stomach rumbles, halting their hormones' urges in favor of food.

* * *

Later when they're in bed but not quite ready to go to sleep yet, she relishes in the comfortable silence that surrounds them. She puts down her book and lays beside him, arm thrown across his stomach.

''Finn?''

He glances over his computer screen, ''Yeah, babe?''

''Thanks for being there for me.''

Grinning, he snaps his computer shut and puts it away on his desk.

As soon as he's back in bed, he reaches out for her, feet tangling up with hers.

''I don't mind, I like hearing about your day, it's the best part of mine. Besides, you do the same for me so…''

''I love you,'' she only replies, face inching closer, resting in the crook of his neck.

They lie like this for a while, sharing his pillow while fingers graze.

She loves nights like these. Sex is always amazing with him but it's nice to fade out while they're murmuring thoughts, holding each other until they both fall asleep. He'll reveal his secret obsession with Vanilla coke or she'll admit that she likes singing to ACDC when no one is around. She likes it most when they find surprising common grounds like their aversion for Redbull commercials or their tendency to count their sleeping hours.

Santana would probably kill her for saying so but she thinks she's never shared a deeper bond with anyone else.

Being able to wipe off his dimples with her lips is just a bonus.


	7. Chapter 7

**If it wasn't clear yet, my story is told through twelve months, placed in a random order.**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Glee or any of its characters.**

* * *

**December**

He misses her. She called him yesterday and yet, he craves her voice. Her face. Her body.

Fuck, he's going crazy just thinking about spending two more weeks without her. It feels weird sleeping in his single bed in Lima when lately, he's been drifting off, with her tugged against him, his hand curved around her hip.

It's their first Christmas together and they spend it apart, how ironic. He gets it, their relationship is fairly recent so they chose to forgo shared holidays, both afraid of hurried commitments. They're at the stage of their relationship where they haven't tested their respective limits yet so they still fear every petty argument, thinking it could lead to goodbyes. Still, he doesn't see himself ever letting her go.

His mom tries to lure him in the kitchen with a batch of fresh cookies and a Back to the future marathon but he just wants to lock himself in his room and skype with her. He thinks it's cute how she schedules chat dates for them even though they text each other daily. They usually keep it pretty tame but the last time they talked, she showed him this backless dress she'd just bought and well, he ended up with his hand down his boxers. So yeah, he's pretty anxious to chat with her again, already envisaging what she'll wear or better yet, what garment she'll lack.

* * *

She was supposed to log on two hours ago. He tries to reach her a few times, even calling her cellphone but she won't answer. He decides to drown his moodiness with videogames and a beer that somehow turns into three.

Impatience reaches its peak when one more hour passes. With shaky fingers, he calls her again, voice slurring when finally, she replies.

''Hey, baby. It's Finn. Where were you?''

She answers him in this warm honey tone, ''Sorry, I got held up. Santana dragged me to an unexpected ladies' night, claiming I needed a man closer to home.'' she groans.

Fucking Santana. He'd tried to campaign for her approval for months, even bribing her with free drinks, he should've known she had played him…

''What the fuck? You're already in a relationship. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't like me trying to match Brittany,'' he reasons, with a slight stutter.

''Have you been drinking?,'' she cuts in, worry etched in her tone.

''M-Maybe… Don't try to change the subject, I waited for you for hours!,'' he grumbles.

''I know, I'm sorry, baby. Talking to you would've been better, believe me. Getting hit on by drunk frat boys in a sketchy bar is not exactly my type of night.''

''What frat guys?,'' he inquires, jealousy coloring his tone.

''Let's try again tomorrow. I promise I'll be there.''

''If fucking Santana leaves you alone until then!''

''Finn, she's my best friend! Don't talk about her this way,'' she warns.

''Okay, okay, sorry. I'm just tired of her being all up my ass, telling you I'm not good enough for you. I already know that.''

''Finn, of course you're good enough. You make me very happy. Don't you dare think otherwise.'' she says, her voice softening.

''Yeah, I know… It was unjustified. I guess I'm just bummed we didn't get to skype, I've been looking forward to it all day... Do you miss me?,'' he hesitates.

She sighs, ''You know I do. That's why I've been sending you those pictures, obviously.''

''Yeah, those are great babe. S'not the same as having you under me though. I really do miss your boobs, y'know,'' he admits bluntly.

Her tone's tinged with seduction when she replies that she misses his hands just as much, making him choke on his beer.

''You'll have the real thing soon enough. Two more weeks,'' she mumbles, between yawns.

''I wish you could be here right now.''

''I know, I wish I could too but it's getting late, Finn. I'm going to bed. Promise not to drink too much, okay?''

Rachel's awesome like that, always taking care of him, even when they're physically apart.

''Okay, I'll be a good boy and switch to water. Love you, baby.''

''Mhmm, love you too. Enjoy the rest of your holidays for me.''

''Yeah, I'll try. Those two weeks better flash by,'' he concedes, starting to feel drowsy himself.

''They will. Love you.''

She hangs up and he spends the rest of his night, staring at saved pictures of her until his eyes get sore.

* * *

She texts him in the evening, the next day, just as he's finished eating and urges him to lock his door and log on to skype.

When she comes into view, she's sipping wine, clad in a light bathrobe, her long hair curled, stumbling down her shoulders. He rids himself of his shirt quickly as her gaze travel down his torso.

''Hi, baby. How are you?,'' she starts innocently.

''I'm fine. Holy shit, Rach, you look hot,'' he exclaims, already half-hard.

''Thanks. So do you. I figured you'd like live footage for once. Hopefully, this makes up for yesterday…''

''Yeah-yes, it does,'' he trails out, eyes fixed on the opening of her bathrobe, offering him a glimpse of her cleavage.

From the way she's smirking, she knows she's driving him crazy.

''So how was your week?''

''Okay I guess. Kurt bumped into Mercedes, one of his old friends from high school so he finally stopped forcing me to tag along to every local theater production. I've been helping Burt in the garage instead…,'' he stops midsentence as her fingers trace the outline of her cleavage, slowly inching away her bathrobe. She's wearing her bright pink bra, his favourite.

''Yes, Finn?,'' she giggles, fully aware of her impact on him.

''We're fixing this old timey car that Burt's been storing for a while…''

She drops her bathrobe and leans forward, boobs pressed together. Her semi-transparent bra gives him a peak at her stiff nipples, compelling him to grab himself.

''What about your mom? How is she doing?''

Her fingers ghost over her nipples while she bites her lip.

''She's g-great,'' he chokes out as his strokes become firmer. ''Fuck, Rach.''

When he's on the brink of ecstasy, she unhooks her bra and tosses it behind her. Her hands are grazing her breasts when he shoots out hotly in his boxers, rasping her name. Her voice's only gasps when Santana pops up behind Rachel.

Rachel's hands fly out over her boobs while a blush spreads over her exposed torso. He puts his shirt back on and tries to adjust himself, even though Santana surely can't tell he just had an orgasm.

''Rach, have you seen my red blouse? I've been looking for it everywhere,'' her friend inquires, without preamble

''San, get out! I'm naked!''

''Oh please, you've still got panties on and I've seen your breasts a gazillion times, it's no big deal! It's not like your rack is that impressive anyway!''

''Hey, Rach's boobs are amazing,'' he counters, annoyed.

Santana only chuckles, ''Hello there, didn't see you behind your raging hard-on!''

He shifts slightly, hoping his basketball shorts make him seem decent enough.

''We're kind of busy so it'd be great if you could leave us alone,'' he tries, speech filled with pent up resentment from countless previous interruptions.

Santana stares him down.

''Judging from that badly hidden mess, I'd say you're about done, no? Can't you just put that down though, it's distracting.''

He readjusts his camera with scarlet cheeks. Rachel steps back from the computer and marches up to her closet, forgoing modesty. She rummages for a few minutes until she comes out of it, red blouse in hand.

Giving it to her friend, she states, irritated, ''Now will you please go? I'd like to talk to my boyfriend in private.''

Santana cackles and throws a stack of condoms at Rachel, ''Sure, just don't forget to use those next time, kids. It's better to use them in the safety of your house though.''

Rachel slams the door in her face and locks it. When she faces him again, her bra's back on.

''I'm so sorry, Finn. San can be such a bitch, sometimes.''

''It's okay. It's not the first time she walked in on us anyway…''

After a few weeks of being with Rachel, her roommate surprising them while they fooled around became a commodity; surely, by now, Santana was as familiar with his body as Rachel was.

''I know but still, she ruined the mood… If she thinks we're not doing it on the couch after this, then she's gladly mistaken,'' she claims hotly. ''Or better yet, on the stove, it's hers,'' she grins.

''I've got not problem with that, babe. We'll make sure to be louder than usual when that happens,'' he adds, winking.

''I miss you, baby. I can't wait to fall asleep with your arms around me, as Nicholas Sparks as it sounds.''

''You're talking about the Notebook dude, right?''

She laughs, ''Yes, Finn. He's behind those romantic movies you like so much.''

''Right… Well, I miss you too, so fucking much. One more week, can't wait!''

Before she ties her bathrobe, she flashes him her bra one last time, ''Yes, one more week. I'll be waiting for you.''

She logs off but still manages to send him a picture of her covering her breasts with her panties dangerously low on her hips.

Best girlfriend ever.


	8. Chapter 8

**Finished this drabble not too long ago so hopefully it does not contain too many mistakes, thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer : I do not own Glee or any of its characters.**

* * *

**May**

Stepping out of the bar, she covers her shoulders with her light cardigan and holds it tight against herself, already shivering from the midnight breeze. His voice is barely audible over the clicking of her heels on the sidewalk.

All she wanted was a fun night out with him and he managed to act like an ass, embarrassing her in front of her friends - not a good way to start their weekend.

He catches up with her and follows closely behind as she lets herself into her building and climbs the narrow stairs leading to her apartment.

''Rach, wait!,'' he tries, grasping her arm while she fumbles with her keys, failing to unlock her door.

''Let me go,'' she grumbles, shoving his hand away. ''I don't want to talk to you right now. Go home,'' she warns, containing her annoyance as neighbours pass by, glancing their way.

''But babe,'' he whines in exaggerated syllables.

She glares at him, blazed with fury, ''No, Finn. You should've thought about it before you turned into a possessive jerk!''

She tries to slam the door in his face but he stretches his arm and holds it back, ''Babe, I don't have my keys and Sam's at his girlfriend's… Please let me in. I won't bother you, I promise.''

Punishing him by leaving him on her doorstep is tempting but her conscience makes her comply, ''Fine but my bedroom's off limits tonight. I'm still mad at you.''

''Well the feeling's mutual...,'' he mutters, bypassing her to slump on her couch.

She closes her door and locks it before she turns to him, baffled.

''What's that supposed to mean? You were the one who forced me out of the dancefloor, shoving me out of the bar, without letting me utter as much of a goodbye to Santana!,'' she explodes, filling the living room with her anger.

''Oh, come on, Rach. I had to get you out of there! They kept hollering at you!''

She shrugs off her cardigan and drops it on her armchair.

''Who are you even talking about?,''

Ridding herself of her four inch black heels, she sits down on the armchair and massages her sore calves.

''Those fucking jerks sitting in the booth on the left! They were leering at you, hoping you would bend over in that barely there skirt of yours!''

Astounded, she looks down on her white halter blouse and green wrap skirt. She had borrowed her outfit from Santana's closet, hoping the skirt's length would show off her tan legs and tempt him a little, fully aware that he was spending the night at her place; she did not plan on attracting other stares as well… Still, her resentment resurfaces as she remembers how if he would have let it go, they would be intertwined in her bed right now.

''Sorry for trying to seduce my boyfriend! I'll remember to dress the way you want me to in the future, like a good suppressed feminist,'' she snaps, her voice sharpened with sarcasm.

''Fuck, Rach. It's not what I meant and you know it. I liked it, very much. The problem is that so did all the guys there…''

Her voice's rising when she tells him, ''Yeah, well I don't care about their opinion, Finn, I only care about yours and I don't need you to give me orders just because encountering jerks in a bar makes _you_ uncomfortable!''

''You're my girlfriend, of course, I don't like men staring at you that way! Santana had to stop me from punching one of those guys. I couldn't stand idly by, watching them try to cup a feel!''

''Your barbaric ways wouldn't've solved anything! I don't need your protection, Finn Hudson, especially not for some innocent comments about the way I dress! We live in New York, I've heard far worse on many occasions and it'll happen again!''

''But it's not a reason to-''

''To dress the way I did?,'' she finishes, incredulously. ''Slut-shaming your girlfriend, good way to go, Hudson!''

She shoots off the armchair, cardigan and shoes gathered in one hand, weary of their juvenile fight, ''I think I've heard enough idiotic things for one night! If you want to keep fighting, go ahead but I'm going to bed.''

He stands up and blocks her way, reaching out for her skin, out of habit.

''Rach,'' he begs softly, fingertips brushing her shoulder. She swats his hand away, ''Enjoy the couch.''

Not waiting for an answer, she storms out the room and stomps down the hallway, pushing her bedroom door closed, his groans swallowed.

* * *

Her mind is bursting with pent-up resentment as she settles comfortably in her bed. Fuck, how is she supposed to sleep when his scent is embedded in her sheets?

Part of her wants to cave in and drown herself in his arms but she resists, remembering how her ex used the same power play to control her social interactions. Brody was jealous, often dragging her away from guys he felt she was too comfortable with. After they broke up, she swore she would never tolerate that kind of behavior again and now Finn almost got himself into a brawl because of the same irrational jealousy. She will not allow him to act this way, walking all over her because he feels insecure, especially when she told him all about Brody.

She finally drifts off one hour later, unconsciously reaching out for his pillow.

* * *

Around one in the morning, she is jolted awake by raps on her bedroom door.

''Rach… Rach, are you up?,'' Finn whispers, loudly enough to rush her to consciousness.

Instead of answering, she grunts and furrows herself deeper under her covers, naively hoping he will go away.

''Babe, can I come in?''

Another grunt escapes her lips as she covers her ears with her pillow.

''Babe, let me in. I know you're awake.''

''Trying to sleep. Go away,'' she breathes out, whimpering.

''I can't sleep. Please, we won't talk. I'll just… I'll sleep better with you,'' he admits, softly, knowing she will cave in with that tone.

She drags herself off the bed and opens her door quickly, hurrying back to her pillow.

''Thanks,'' he whispers, lips pressing against the back of her neck.

His arms come around her waist but she flinches away, whining.

''You're lucky you're even sleeping in here. Don't push it,'' she mumbles, squeezing her eyes shut, lying on the far edge of the bed when she really wants to curve her body against his.

* * *

He is kissing her neck, fingers tracing her collarbone, when her eyes open, adjusting to the creaks of sunlight slipping through her dark curtains.

For a moment, she wants to lose herself in his warmth, to let it spread and contaminate her own body but blurred memories of last night's fight come rushing.

She presses her lips closed as he hovers over her and covers her mouth with his. Pushing him off her, she sits up and readjusts her tank top, loosened from his deft fingers.

''Still?,'' he asks rhetorically with distressed eyes.

''Yes. I didn't like the way you treated me yesterday,'' she states, stubbornly.

''I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to embarrass you. I should've controlled myself,'' he starts, grasping her hand.

She allows his touch but waits for him to resume his apology.

''You're right, I was insecure. I had no right to command you.''

She brushes her lips on his cheek but he turns his head and kisses her on the mouth instead.

''Maybe sometimes I have a crappy way of telling you that but you're beautiful, Rach. It's just, you're mine, y'know? And sometimes, I worry you'll find someone far better and ditch me like other girls before…''

With splayed hands on his back, she pushes herself against her pillows and brings him closer to her, her fingers treading through his thick hair while his head rests on her breast.

''I won't. I'm in love with you and you acting like an ass from time to time doesn't change that unfortunately,'' she adds, giggling.

He pushes himself on his elbows and pecks her lips, ''I love you so much. I'll try to behave next time, promise.''

His body covers hers while hands rummage, desperate for familiar intimacy.

''Not too hard, was it?,'' she whispers, nose against his.

''No… can we stop talking though and kiss, I've been going crazy since our fight…''

She laughs against his shoulder but complies, opening her mouth to his.


	9. Chapter 9

**I've been busy for the past month, alternating between this story and my upcoming oneshot but here is a new chapter, at last. Hope it was be worth the wait! **

* * *

**August**

Rachel gets gloomy in the middle of August. When he asks her about it, she shrugs and tells him that she wishes summer could last longer. It bugs him seeing her mope around like this so he convinces her to take a couple of days off with him.

They cannot afford a big trip so he decides to bring her to Lima, figuring he could kill two birds with one stone and visit his mom at the same time. Rachel whines at first, arguing that she cannot pack sufficiently on such short notice. Once on the road though, she is beaming, arm draped around his headrest, her fingers scratching his scalp as he drives. He lets her pick the music, fully aware that it likely means going through her entire Broadway catalogue. To his surprise, she puts on Queen and her voice matches every note of Bohemian Rhapsody, spurring him to kiss her softly at an intersection, blissfully ignoring the boisterous honks ringing in the background.

It did not take him long to fall for Rachel but he swears that hearing her sing hooked him for good. Some mornings, he would find her waltzing around in his kitchen, belting some love song as if she were performing live in front of an audience. For a while, he selfishly kept requesting his favourite songs for her to sing – willing to let her voice become his anthem – but, much to his disappointment, she rarely derived from Broadway classics.

''Babe, I think you missed the exit,'' she states, slightly breathless from her explosive rendition of 'Another One Bites The Dust'.

At first, he wanted to surprise her with their location but knowing she would likely refuse to come if he did, his girl is not very fond of the unexpected, he had come clean. Still, he manages to hide the fact that they will be staying at Sam's aunt's lake house for the weekend.

She grows even more suspicious as they drive past a sign announcing the city limits.

''Don't worry about it, just taking a little detour,'' he lets out breezily.

''I can tell when you're lying, Finn. What are you not telling me? You know I can't stand surprises,'' she huffs.

''Can't you just let me have this one?,'' he pleads quietly.

She stares him down.

''Fine. We're going to this lake house owned by Sam's aunt. It's not much but I figured we could crash there for the weekend… to celebrate the end of the summer.''

She gazes at him with bright eyes. ''I can't wait to get there,'' she replies softly, her hand squeezing his thigh.

* * *

It takes them a little while longer but after a few twists and turns, they finally arrive at the lake house. It is a two floor stone cottage leading to a small lake on one side and edging a gravelly road on the other. Three adjacent cottages, also boarding the lake, make up the whole neighbourhood. When they step out of the car, they are greeted with a symphony of crickets' chirps and the buzz of nearby electric wires. They revel in the sight of trees and glistening water - a far cry from their urban life - before they make their way inside.

As soon as they are settled in the guest bedroom upstairs, Rachel strips off and steps into a tiny turquoise and black striped string bikini while he stares appraisingly. Unable to resist her, he grabs her by the waist and tries to tempt her, his fingers deftly untying her top but she stops him with a huff and chastises him. Under her strict orders, he goes downstairs to call his mom and set their plans for the next day.

After hanging up, he changes quickly into his swimsuit and joins Rachel outside. He finds her sitting on the patio deck, her toes carefully tipping in the modest above ground pool standing in the backyard.

He rids himself of his shirt and hovers over her, confused.

''Babe, what are you doing?''

''I'm about to swim in the pool, silly.''

''Yeah, I see that but why? There's a lake sitting there,'' he explains, pointing out to her the beach boarding the house, a little farther south.

''You can go, baby. I'm fine hanging alone by the pool,'' she replies with a shrug.

''I don't think so. You're coming with me, Rach.''

''It must be freezing out there while here it's warm and cozy,'' she says, climbing down the pool ladder. She leans up and puckers her lips for a quick kiss. ''How about you join me, instead. We could forgo bathing suits,'' she whispers in his ear before wrapping her lips against his lobe.

He groans, finding it hard to keep his resolve. ''It does sound tempting but we'll have much more fun in the lake, I promise. You told me you never swam in one! We have to fix this.''

''I don't think so. It doesn't seem sanitary. Maybe another ti-,'' she begins when he catches her by surprise and hisses her out of the pool, holding her tight against him.

''Finn Hudson, you let me down this instant!,'' she tells him indignantly as she does her best to push him away, in vain.

''Sorry, baby but you're going swimming with me.''

He frees her when they reach the shore. She tries to run back towards the house but he catches her and holds her prisoner until she promises to indulge him.

His hand is in hers as he strides towards the lake. Every time she steps further into the water, she shudders, tightening her hold around his waist. He leans down and presses his lips against her forehead, trying to wipe her frown. Eventually, she moves forward, slowly, pacing their rhythm as she becomes accustomed to the chilling water. She astounds him by being the first one to swim, her competitive side taking over when he assumes she will not dare to get soaked. He barely moves, too engrossed in the image of her still body floating - Rachel rarely stays still so witnessing her in a moment of serenity is quite spectacular.

When she notices his eyes on her, she plunges back into the water and swims towards him. Once she reaches him, she grips his shoulders and wraps her legs around his torso. She is glistening with water, her swimsuit sticking to her skin but instead of being bothered by her shivering spine, she is beaming. He pecks her lips, ''Told you the lake wasn't that bad.''

''Mmm, it is nice,'' she replies, issuing a kiss of her own. ''Very nice,'' she adds, slipping her tongue between his lips. ''Pretty great way to end the summer.''

One of his hands roam her torso, fingertips sneaking beneath her bikini top and grazing the underside of her right breast, ''I thought so too.''

The sun is hanging low in the sky when they swim back towards the shore, sneaking coy glances at each other.

Their swimsuits come off after dinner, following a few glasses of wine. Her hair is still wet when he presses her against the mattress hours later, his fingertips blazing against her cold torso. He clings to her as she dozes off, his own head spinning with images of her.

He cannot wait for fall.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi, I know it's been so long, I'm sorry for that, life and a lack of inspiration got in the way! I have to admit, it's getting harder to write Finchel these days but I promise to finish this story at least, there's nothing I hate more than unfinished fics! Hopefully this chapter is worth the wait!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10 - February**

In February, Rachel starts rehearsing for this show she auditioned for in December. It's not a big production but it's showing a few nights a week at this fairly known theater in Brooklyn so she's excited. She plays the lead character, an aspiring actress, which is fitting enough, and she's fantastic – he's never been good with symbolism but he's pretty sure her character's naiveté is supposed to echo the novelty of the 19th century or at least that's what he got from her extensive summary of the play. She shares the stage with this Broadway golden boy and he knows it's part of her job but he could've done without the romantic sex scene – do 19th century lovers really need to prove their commitment to each other by doing it? He's at least thankful for that period's modesty in clothing. He's not sure he could've handled such a scene otherwise…

With her grueling schedule, he rarely gets to see her and when he does, she's often too tired to move, understandably so, resulting in them either cuddling in front of a movie or him sneaking his arms around her passed out body.

He misses her and he doesn't tell her but she sees right through him and sits him down, reminding him of the various challenges of dating an actress. He cuts her off and kisses her, silently promising her that he's planning on sticking around even if that means seeing less of her in the upcoming weeks.

* * *

It's the second week of February when he gets a call from Kurt, asking him to crash at his place; he's doing yet other round of renovations and he needs a bed - he would've asked Blaine but they just had one of their recurrent fights. He agrees, reluctantly, figuring he can crash in Sam's room anyway while he's at his girlfriend's, fully knowing that he'd hear from his mother if he didn't budge.

As soon as his brother steps foot in his apartment, he makes a point to critic every item he owns, from his choice of decoration that he deems ''tragically tacky'' to his pieces of furniture that apparently do not match the ambiance of the room, whatever that means. The expression 'Don't bite the hand that feeds' is certainly lost on his brother, he thinks.

Kurt refuses to sleep on Sam's bed claiming his back needs a certain level of support that his ''warped mattress'' cannot provide him so he ends up banished from his bedroom, settling for the futon, covered by this ratty blanket that he keeps in the back of his closet.

Rachel drops by a few times, greeting him with her lips - whenever she has a break from rehearsals, which is rarely these days - but Kurt always manages to cajole her into movie musicals marathons, leaving him staring at the chipping wood of the kitchen table instead of enjoying a much needed night in with his girl.

On the rare day that Kurt finally brings himself to leave the apartment to go attend some art gallery thing, she comes over and she barely has time to say hi before he grabs her by the hips and leads her to the living room. She's straddling him on the couch, their hands rummaging under shirts when Kurt bursts in to retrieve his forgotten wallet. Between Rachel's embarrassment and Kurt's repeated shrieks, they get dressed hastily, settling for Netflix. His scalding shower merely makes up for his raging hard on.

* * *

One week later, she surprises him on his lunch break at work. She tells him to come find her at her place after his shift and shows him a preview of the night to come by leaning down slightly, allowing him a peak at her lacy blue push-up bra – the one she wears when she wants him. He spends the rest of his shift, counting down the minutes, hiding his hard on behind a counter.

When he arrives at her place, he finds her tucked in her bed, bare skin peeking through her dark covers. He wastes no time in joining her, his calloused hands tracing her soft skin, lips following suit. She groans at the contact of his jeans and urges him to undress in ragged breaths. He does so, hurrying back to her, before he wraps his tongue against her heat while she tugs forcefully at his hair. He looks up to see her climaxing, not long after, nipples stiff, her torso sheen with sweat. She has barely recovered from her own high when she pushes him on the bed and trails down his body, covering his straining length with her lips. He cannot contain himself at the sight of her dark hair swaying as she licks him, over and over again. They make love a few times in her bed, until all her sheets are splayed on the floor, and move over to the shower where they fuck, body lotion dripping down her torso as he rocks against her, her thick wet hair twisted over his shoulder.

When they get out of the shower, they forgo clothes and make her bed quickly just so they can jump back into it. He tries coercing her into another love-making session but she stops him, giving him a chaste kiss instead.

''Baby, you need to talk to Kurt,'' she begins, her right hand lazily tracing his modest patch of chest hair.

''I know I should but it's just for a few more weeks. He'll be gone in no time,'' he tries, his lips grazing hers.

''Finn Hudson, do you really want to go without sex for another two weeks?''

''I could always sleep here instead,'' he mutters, his lips against her left nipple.

She pushes his chest slightly, forcing him to look up, ''Finn, as much as I enjoy those forbidden rendezvous,'' she allows, with rosy cheeks. He still can't get over the fact that she can't mention their sex life without blushing, it's just so fucking cute. ''I would like to be able to sleep at your place without Kurt making a fuss about it every time.''

''Believe me, he didn't endure as much as I did when I lived with him and Blaine. Every surface in Kurt's apartment is now plastered with memories of them doing it…''

''It may be so, Finn but I enjoy our privacy and I'd rather not be cautious when I make love to my boyfriend because there's an audience next door.''

How can she expect him to keep his hands off her when she says things like that, seriously.

''Babe, you know how he gets when I confront him. He's just going to bitch until he gets his way…,'' he lets out, mesmerized by her nipple becoming stiff at the touch of his thumb.

''Finn, stop,'' she whines, trying to push him away. ''I can't concentrate if you're touching me.''

He lingers against her lips and swallows a moan as his hand glides down her torso.

''Alright, I'll talk to him,'' he concedes in a low whisper. ''Now, can we catch up some more? I've missed you.''

Her hands forcefully grasp his hair as his tongue slide against her body.

He makes her come twice before she retires to the shower, forcing him out of the door to deal with his brother.

* * *

When he enters his apartment, Kurt is holding color swatches in front living room walls with a notepad in hand.

''What are you doing?''

''What do you think of these?,'' his brother replies instead, thrusting a pallet of grey swatches in his hand.

''For what?''

''For your living room walls, dear brother. Faded beige looks so 2004, I think Artic seal grey would give your room panache.''

''No, you are not doing this. This is my apartment, not another one of your renovation projects,'' he replies, marching down to his kitchen so he can drop the swatches in his recycling bin.

''Fine, be a baby about it. I don't get how Rachel can stand to sleep here with this hideous futon and its matching drapes.''

''Well, here's the thing, she's not these days. When are you moving back, Kurt?,'' he asks, his voice sharp.

''As soon as the renovation is done…''

''I've heard you talk on the phone yesterday, Kurt. Seems like it's done already,'' he accuses.

''Fine, I don't want to see Blaine!,'' his brother huffs.

''Well, he left three messages on my voicemail, I think it's time you hear him!''

''You're just saying that so you and Rachel can get some!''

''Yeah, you're right, I miss my girlfriend and I barely get to see her so maybe I'm willing to kick you out if that means spending time with her, is that so wrong?,'' he yells, exasperated.

''I'm sorry, Finn,'' his brother sighs. ''I've been using your apartment as an excuse to avoid my problems. I should talk to Blaine. I'll pack my bags and I'll be on my way out.''

''I'm sorry too, I could've been nicer about it. Thanks for understanding. I'm always here if you need me, Kurt.''

He pats his brother on the back before going back to his kitchen and retrieving the color swatches, ''Maybe this deserves a second look. It has been a while since my living room has been painted.''

Kurt laughs and promises to help if he decides to go for it.

* * *

As soon as Kurt leaves, he calls her and begs her to come over, with rushed words, barely containing the longing in his voice.

She greets him with a sloppy kiss, claiming she is beyond tired so they spend the rest of the afternoon lounging on his bed, their arms wrapped around each other as her eyes droop.

''I love you, baby. I'm so proud of you. I hope you know that. You're gonna be amazing up on that stage,'' he whispers, lips against her hairline.

She looks up and pecks his lips, smiling.

''Now that we've got the place to ourselves again, maybe you could tire me out…,'' she suggests, grabbing his palm and splaying it under her tank top.

He grins, ''You do look awake, right now and it's time to go to bed…''

Her laughs bounces off his walls as he pins her to his mattress.


End file.
